


Black Rose

by Myka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-01
Updated: 2005-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myka/pseuds/Myka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus wanders. Pre-HBP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Rose

Remus doesn’t remember what brought him here. He feels out of place walking among the masses of witches and wizards along with their children. Happy. Unaware of the dangers or uncaring of them. Or maybe it was because everyone wanted to cling to the hope that Diagon Alley was still safe from Voldemort. 

Remus wanders. Passing shop by shop. Wondering at his reason for being there. Perhaps he just wants to get lost in a crowd. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t want to be immediately recognized. Perhaps it was because today Nymphadora told him she loved him, and he had just stared at her in disbelief. Didn’t she know? Hadn’t she seen? 

Nobody ever saw. They had been too good at it. At keeping it private. Their own personal secret where no one else was ever allowed.

It had only been a week since Sirius’s death.

Remus was tired of the petty condolences that weren’t accurate.

_“I’m sorry for your loss; I know he was a dear friend.”_

_“Harry saw him as a father; and you? Well, you were almost family. Good friends are always like family.”_

_“My cousin…he always talked about you. You were his best friend.”_

Wrong wrong wrong. They were all wrong.

Remus stops in front of a flower shop and walks inside, picking the rose that had caught his eye. He stares at it for just a few seconds before paying for it and heading back out.

He wanders again, the rose between his fingers. It’s a long walk, but now he knows where to go; now he has a destination. It takes a long discussion with the guard plus a floo call to Dumbledore to gain access to the room, but he manages it and is now here, standing in front of it.

The veil mocks him with its stillness, and Remus steps forward, reaching towards it, scrapping his knuckles against the stone. He scratches at the stone with his nails; they don’t brake, and for once Remus is a little bit thankful of this particular characteristic of his condition. 

When he finishes, his fingers reach for the veil itself, getting close, but just before touching it Remus stops himself and draws back. Biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. Too close. Somewhere deep he knows that the day he finally touches the still piece of cloth it will all be over, the day he finally touches it he won’t be able to stop. But not today. He still has promises to keep. People that still need his help. 

Remus opens his eyes and mutters a soft ‘goodbye’, then leaves. 

A single black rose lies in front of the arch with the words, ‘I miss you’ scratched on its stone.


End file.
